Stockholm Syndrome // h.s

chapter twenty one

I stare directly at the clock opposite of the couch, my gaze never leaving the ticking hands. All I wanted to do was be anywhere else, literally anywhere would be better than the organized room of the person that was supposed to fix all my "problems".

The therapist sits to my left in a chair, sitting with perfect posture, everything about her appearance screamed professionalism.

"Belle, can you tell me a bit about why you are here today?"

"I don't know, my mom dragged me here".

"Well you have been identified as a patient with Stockholm Syndrome, but with these therapy sessions you will be back to normal in no time!"

"I don't want to go back to normal," I whisper under my breath, so quiet the lady couldn't hear me.

"Well why don't we get started, I will ask a few questions and you will answer them. Okay?"

"Whatever," I reply with no plan of actually answering them.

"So tell me about him, tell me about Harry," she asks, her pen ready to scribble down every word that leaves my mouth. I stay silent, not letting her or my family win, I wasn't telling my life story to some stranger.

"You know if you want this to work your going to have to talk".

"If I want what to work?" I question seemingly innocent.

"If you want to stop think about the man that kidnapped you as your enemy instead of your lover".

I stand up and walk right in front of her face, saying my words very slowly "I don't want to". And with that I left the office angrily, tired of everyone telling me I have a mental condition, that it isn't healthy to have feelings for your captor. But they didn't know Harry, they didn't know his story, they didn't feel the soft touch of his lips, the didn't feel the beating of his heart in sync with my own. They know nothing, they don't understand. It created a feeling of complete loneliness. I had no one to talk to, no one I could trust, no one how would listen to words I repeated over and over again.

Once I arrived at my parents house (definitely not my home) I saw the three of them sitting at the table having an aggressive conversation. Upon hearing the sound of the door they abruptly stop talking and my mother gives me a fake smile.

"How was the session Belle?" My dad asks, acting like he actually cared about me.

"It was amazing! I mean I don't think I even said 3 words!" I said, my words dripping with sarcasm.

"Save it Belle. You need to start helping your self get rid of this, this horrible condition!" My mother yells, startling both me and my brother.

"I don't need to change anything! No matter what you say about him, he was there for me when you guys weren't. He was the person that stopped me from feeling lonely. I don't even know why I'm still here, you guys won't even listen to me!" I say, putting most of my weight on the wall, feeling as if I was about to collapse in a puddle of tears.

"You don't understand," I whisper, slowly moving to the ground.

"It doesn't matter if we understand or not, you have to start doing something! How could you be this god damn naive and plain stupid! I don't even know who you are anymore... You aren't the daughter I raised. I want you out. You can't live here anymore if your not going to try to get help," she replies. I stand up, glaring at the both of them, and head straight out the door without looking back.

I didn't know where to go, what to do, I really didn't know anything expect Harry still hasn't left my clouded mind.